One Night Off
by Thranduil's Bossy Elk
Summary: Weechesters! Just a bit of fluff, Sammy and Dean try on John's jackets and have a few moments away from the hunt and away from real life.


_A brief glimpse into one night for the Weechesters and their Dad away from the hunt, away from sadness and everything. :D Dean is about 8 here and Sammy about 4. _

_I own nothing. _

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**One Night Off**

"Dean, look!"

Sam popped his small, shaggy head out of the oversized flannel that he had dragged on. The sleeves extended a good foot over his hands and he flapped them excitedly.

Dean smirked, covering his smile with both hands.

"Sammy, you're too small!" he laughed.

Sam smiled proudly and shuffled away, only to trip over the hem of the shirt and tumble onto the sofa.

They were staying that week in another motel, this one identifiable only by the chipping green paint on the walls which Dean liked and Sam said made him want to throw up all the time. John hadn't contributed an opinion. He was out now, having told his boys to look after each other and stay in the room.

Two twin beds, a gray sofa, and an armchair whose color wasn't on any known spectrum stood around the room. John had thrown the duffel that held his clothes on one of the beds before heading out, and this was what had captured the boys' attention. Before long Sam, with a boost from his older brother, had clambered up the bed frame and started rooting through John's clothes bag. Triumphantly, he had pulled out the huge flannel shirt and announced that he was going to wear it.

Now, sprawled over the sofa, Sam laughed as he rolled around in the huge shirt. Dean, inspired by Sam's antics, pulled another shirt from John's bag before catching sight of something else beneath: the leather jacket. Dean ran his hands over the smooth material, worn by so many years of traveling and hunting. He pressed it to his face and smelled the warm scent of leather mixed with Dad's smell.

"Whatcha got, Dean?" Sam piped from the sofa.

Dean slowly took the jacket from John's bag and spread it out carefully.

"'S Dad's jacket, the big leather one."

Dean picked it up and slipped it over his shoulders. The leather was heavier than he had imagined. He stood up on the bed and looked at Sam for approval.

"You look like Dad!" Sam said, clapping his flannel-encased hands.

Dean burst out laughing.

"Sammy, _you_ look like a seal! Do the noise!"

Sam happily obliged, trying his best to imitate the funny whiskered animals they had seen in movies.

Dean looked down and rolled the sleeves of the big jacket up so that his own hands stuck out the bottom. They were so much smaller than Dad's. He wondered if he would look like Dad when he grew up. Dean had often tried to see if John's rugged features were mirrored in his own face, but so far he didn't see much resemblance. He couldn't wait for the day when he looked as grown-up as Dad.

With a gust of wind, the motel door swung open revealing a figure carrying several paper bags silhouetted against the night.

"Dad!" the boys chorused.

John's tired eyes opened in surprise when he saw the boys dressed up in his clothes, and his scruffy chin hid the smile that followed. Swinging the door shut with his foot, he strode over to the bed and dumped several take-out bags on it before swooping Dean up in his arms.

"Hey, Dean-o" John murmured, smiling tiredly but fondly.

He placed Dean on the sofa next to Sam. Both boys clamored at once to show John how much they looked like him. John hid a smile at the sight of Sam swamped in his flannel shirt and Dean wearing the long leather coat.

"Dad, we look like you!"

John sat down between the boys and leaned back against the sofa. He ruffled Sam's long hair and put an arm around Dean's narrow shoulders.

"Dad, dad, put this one on!" Sam laughed, producing a small shirt from his own bag.

"This?" John mock frowned as he tried to find some part of himself that the little garment would fit on. He finally managed to fit Sammy's shirt onto one of his arms and wore it like an armband.

Both boys laughed, rolling off the sofa.

John smiled and began getting their take-out dinner ready. He made sure Sammy and Dean were occupied with showing each other how well they could each respectively imitate Dad before turning away, and murmuring softly to himself.

"Boys are alright, Mary."

John never had enough nights like this. One night off from the hunt, away from the world, with his boys.


End file.
